For the next two days, Shen Miaomiao might as well have unlocked a cheat code.
By day, she sat at her desk at the company, writing like mad. At midnight, she took her place in front of her phone, punctually beginning her “experimental fake online relationship” with the owner of that pitch-black L avatar.
Their conversations had an exceedingly strange and distinctive style.
Whenever she tried to create a romantic scene:
[Anonymous User 9527]: It's pouring today. I forgot my umbrella, and I'm shivering by the roadside. Shouldn't the male lead pull up in a luxury car and suavely drape his suit jacket over me?
[L]: In reality, a luxury car passing you in heavy rain would only splash you with muddy water. The correct approach is for him to text you that there are shared umbrellas at the subway entrance, or order you a cup of ginger tea for delivery to your office reception.
[Anonymous User 9527]: ...Dude. You really know how to kill a mood!
Whenever she tried to write jealousy:
[Anonymous User 9527]: The heroine sees the hero talking to another woman at work and storms off. He grabs her wrist and pins her against the wall! What do you think? Dominant enough?!
[L]: Making a fuss over ordinary workplace interaction isn't jealousy; it's being unreasonable. And forcibly cornering someone against a wall without permission is testing legal boundaries. He should walk over naturally, take whatever heavy thing she's carrying, and show he cares through his actions.
[Anonymous User 9527]: Lesson learned, Coach L! Revising now!
It looked like constant combat and mutual mockery, but every suggestion from L precisely hauled her exaggerated, historically flavored theatrics back onto the tracks of modern urban reality.
Miraculously, Shen Miaomiao's novel had come alive!
By Sunday evening, she was looking at three entirely new, fully revised opening chapters—ten thousand Chinese characters in all—and nearly crying with emotion.
That romantic arc! Those delicate everyday details! The undercurrents beneath their bickering! Even she wanted to shout, “These two are definitely dating in secret!”
Yet beneath her joy, a question buried deep in her mind kept growing.
Why was L helping her so selflessly?
Mug in hand, she sat in front of the computer and pondered.
Everyone in that anonymous group was a contracted author, but writers could be dismissive of their peers. Usually, they did little more than vent and offer mutual comfort. Who stayed awake at midnight every day to coach a complete stranger in romance for free? And edited their dialogue line by line?
More importantly, L understood her style far too well!
On the very first night, he had said, “Someone who can write a million-character hit is not without talent.” How did he know she'd written one? And every flaw he identified—dialogue that sounded like martial-arts masters debating swordsmanship, a fondness for expressing emotion through exaggerated actions—was a habit she'd acquired in her earlier novels!
Shen Miaomiao gasped, her eyes lighting up.
“Wait a second...” She tapped her head. An extremely reasonable, utterly logical explanation suddenly came to her.
“Could L... be a devoted reader of mine?!”
The more she considered it, the more flawless the theory seemed!
Of course! Plenty of veteran Moxiang Literature readers slipped into anonymous writers' groups. L had to be a longtime Miaobi Shenghua fan! Perhaps he'd been following her since her very first hit! That explained why he knew her writing habits inside out! Why he'd encouraged her so firmly when she'd called herself a failure! Why he'd spend every midnight on a fake-dating experiment with his idol, just to help her new book get approved!
“Oh my God...” She pressed a hand to her chest, deeply moved. Every last trace of resentment over his sharp tongue vanished. “He's one of those die-hard fans who acts like he doesn't care! Nitpicking and snarky on the surface, quietly supporting my career behind the scenes! That's so touching!”
The thought of a longtime fan wholeheartedly supporting her from the other side of the screen made her feel wonderfully at ease. Some of her confidence and pride as a star author returned too.
Excited, she opened WeChat and tapped L's chat.
[Anonymous User 9527]: Coach L! I've finished revising the first three chapters! They're perfect! They flow so well I can't stop shipping my own couple!
[L]: Really. Congratulations, then.
[Anonymous User 9527]: Thank you so much for these past few days! Once this romance gets published and becomes a huge hit, you'll get a special mention in the acknowledgments, O Great One!
[L]: No need for acknowledgments. Just make sure your editor from hell doesn't throw you out on the spot tomorrow.
[Anonymous User 9527]: Hmph. Don't underestimate me! Tomorrow I'll make that demon Lu see me in a whole new light! I'll show him what REAL sweet contemporary romance looks like!
[L]: I look forward to it. Get some sleep. Don't be late tomorrow.
His reply was as aloof as ever, but Shen Miaomiao's lips curved. Hmph. Stubborn fan. Thrilled for me inside, refusing to admit it out loud!
She happily shut down the computer and lay down in bed, more confident than she'd ever been about the coming manuscript-review battle.
Nine the next morning. Monday.
The editor-in-chief's office at Moxiang Literature.
In a neat milk-tea-colored dress, Shen Miaomiao stood proudly outside the door, holding her freshly printed, still-warm manuscript with both hands.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Come in.” Lu Chen's cool, resonant voice sounded from within.
She pushed open the door.
Today he wore an impeccably tailored dark-gray suit. His gold-rimmed glasses reflected the morning light with a cold glint. He was looking down at a financial report and only slowly raised his head when he heard her footsteps.
“Punctual, Ms. Shen.” Uncapping his pen, he gestured at the sofa opposite. “Did you bring the manuscript?”
“Yes, Mr. Lu.” She walked over confidently and laid it respectfully on his desk, even lifting her chin a fraction. “My revised first three chapters. Please take a look.”
He gave her a mild glance, said nothing more, and picked up the pages.
Silence settled over the office. Only the rustle of turning paper and the faint hum of the air conditioner remained.
Seated opposite, Shen Miaomiao projected absolute confidence. Yet the sight of his handsome, expressionless face still sent a faint nervous flutter through her.
Lu Chen read quickly, his gaze intensely focused.
When he reached the late-night conversation in Chapter Two about a “hot Americano, no sugar” and how “bitterness keeps you alert,” his fingers paused briefly on the page.
Shen Miaomiao held her breath, watching his expression.
A nearly imperceptible trace of amusement passed through his cool eyes. The corner of his mouth seemed to curve upward by the tiniest, almost invisible degree.
It lasted barely half a second, but she was certain she hadn't imagined it!
Had the editor from hell... just smiled?!
Lu Chen closed the manuscript and laid it flat on the desk. Removing his gold-rimmed glasses, he took out a chamois cloth and slowly polished them. His voice was perfectly calm.
“Ms. Shen.”
Her heart tightened. She immediately sat straighter. “Yes!”
“This manuscript...” He put his glasses back on, looking straight at her through the lenses. “Is a considerable improvement. The leads' interactions feel lived-in. The late-night tension over unsweetened Americano and bitterness works very well. It no longer reads like the Peach Garden oath of brotherhood.”
The heart that had been suspended in her throat for three days finally settled. She nearly cheered right there!
“However...” He deliberately drew out the word.
Her heart shot straight back up. “However what?”
He interlaced his fingers on the desk and leaned forward slightly, his deep gaze fixed on her through his glasses, a hint of playfulness in it.
“I'm curious. Didn't you say you'd always specialized in historical fiction and BL, and weren't confident about the subtle emotions between modern men and women? How have you managed, in just two days, to write these romantic scenes with such... firsthand feeling?”
A chill ran down her back. She hastily gave a couple of dry laughs. “Ha-ha... Well, an excellent professional writer can overcome anything with imagination! I had a burst of inspiration!”
“Really?” The slightest curve appeared at the corner of his mouth. “I'd thought... perhaps you'd privately found an expert to guide you these past two days. Or had some particularly illuminating personal experience.”
“Of course not!” She immediately waved the suggestion away and declared with righteous conviction, “I, Shen Miaomiao, am devoted solely to my career! Absolutely no outside help!”
Watching her rush to cover her tracks, Lu Chen's amusement deepened.
“Good. Since these three chapters pass, maintain this standard.” He slid them back to her. “Another three chapters before Friday. I have high hopes for you, Ms. Shen.”
“No problem! Mission guaranteed!” She took the manuscript and left the office beaming, like a schoolchild clutching a perfect test paper.
Watching her cheerful retreat, Lu Chen leaned back in his broad office chair, removed his glasses, and gave a soft laugh.
He took out his phone, opened WeChat, entered the anonymous group of just over thirty authors, and found his conversation with Anonymous User 9527.
His fingers moved swiftly over the screen.
[L]: I hear you were very confident in the editor-in-chief's office today. Did your manuscript pass?
Two seconds later, her reply appeared, overflowing with pride and self-congratulation.
[Anonymous User 9527]: Of course it did, L, my longtime fan! You should have seen how shocked that editor from hell looked reading my manuscript! My literary brilliance utterly conquered him! Hahahahaha!
The words “my longtime fan,” followed by that extravagant string of laughter, made the amusement in Lu Chen's eyes grow deeper.
Longtime fan? He raised an eyebrow, tapped his long fingers lightly against the desk, and replied.
[L]: Glad it passed. Then... our illustrious author Shen, shall we continue our “romance experiment” at midnight tonight?